


We Stray, but We Aren't Lost

by EVOLustory



Series: Wandering Strays [3]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Gintoki/Takasugi/Katsura/Sakamoto squad, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kondou/Hijikata/Okita/Yamazaki squad, M/M, Protective Gintoki, Protective Hijikata, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EVOLustory/pseuds/EVOLustory
Summary: After Gintoki suddenly transfers out near the end of his elementary schooling, Hijikata was left to adapt to the abrupt loss of a best friend and a second home. With no explanation or closure, the two entered their teenage years not expecting to meet each other again.But four years later, in a new city and new life, the two reconnect as classmates. Surrounded by new company and old skeletons in their closets, rekindling their past friendship to the same degree of affection will require more than a greeting. Especially when skeletons come with their own secrets.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Series: Wandering Strays [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/542689
Comments: 26
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: This is the sequel to Nostalgic Innocence. Do not read alone.

#  **We stray, but we aren't lost.**

W a n d e r i n g S t r a y s II

He shows up late on the first day of his high school career—a relatively renowned school he barely manages to test into just to stay with his middle school friends—and walks into his homeroom in the middle of introductions. All heads turn towards him when he stumbles into the classroom with his uniform sloppy and necktie missing.

The teacher lectures him on his tardiness and uniform, the students all watch him with growing amusement, but the boy left standing up mid introduction stares at him like a nightmare walked through the door.

Gintoki first notices the boy’s steel cold eyes, familiar but different, then the silky black bangs brushing against the boy’s long lashes, exactly like they used to. His heart jumps from his chest into his throat when those eyes blink apart in recognition. His school bag slips off his shoulder, falling to dangle on his fingertips. He swallows down his heart, feeling a name slowly form on his tongue, but his breath gets caught when the teacher slams her hand on the podium.

“You, take a seat,” she impatiently urges Gintoki along the side of the class. “Hijikata-kun, please continue where you left off.”

Hijikata tears his gaze away from Gintoki like he’s been jolted awake from a daydream.

“Hijikata Toshirou, pleasure to meet you,” Hijikata ends it there, curt and concise, just like back then.

Gintoki watches him sit down, in his seat near the window in the middle aisle, still feeling like he’s watching a wisp of memory replaying in real life. He watches the back of Hijikata’s head with a dreadful anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach, all the way up until his turn to introduce himself.

He stands, clattering his chair and a little dazed, but maintains an even tone as he says, “Sakata Gintoki, from Z Middle School, favourite food is strawberry parfait. Cheers.”

He hears a few girls giggle at his favourite food and some boys mumble curiously, but one head stays stubbornly facing the front.

Homeroom and the first two periods go by with Gintoki’s peripheral vision attached onto a certain head of dark hair. When his long-awaited lunch break comes, before Gintoki can even pick his ass up from his chair, the girls have Hijikata’s desk surrounded with keen interest. He kicks back in his seat, digging in his bag to retrieve a bag of chocolates to snack on as he waits. He waits, but the impenetrable circle seems to only grow denser. Just as he was wondering whether to break apart the girls, someone comes to stand before him.

“Kintoki, watcha still doin’ here?”

Gintoki looks up to see his friend, all the way here from another class, looking down at him with a wide grin.

“I’ll go soon, let me just finish these,” he holds up his bag of chocolates.

“Can’t ya just eat that in the cafeteria? Takasugi’s been yapping for ya for a while now.”

“When has that shrimp ever cared about anyone but himself? Ignore him, he’s just bitching,” he grumbles as he tries to shoo his friend off.

“Probably ‘cause ya owe him lunch,” the relentless mountain refuses to budge.

“I don’t remember owing him anything. You go and tell him his brain is failing him, shoo.”

When Gintoki finally gets his friend to leave, Hijikata is no longer in his seat. The girls have also returned to their own circles, giggling to each other.

He turns around and asks one of the boy sitting beside him, “Hey, do you know where the ikemen who sits by the windows went?”

“If you mean Hijikata, a second-year came by and went off with him.”

“Oh, thanks,” Gintoki says.

He takes his wallet from his bag and heads towards the cafeteria.

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up.”

Gintoki sighs as he drops his tray down on his friends’ table.

“Shut up,” he groans, pushing the straw into his strawberry milk carton.

“Guys, listen. I found Kintoki in class, glarin’ laser beams at this pretty boy. I smell a story here, y’all.”

“What, did his good looks offend you? He stole the girl you had your eye on?”

“No, he must have been Gintoki’s childhood bully. Throughout his elementary years, this boy tormented Gintoki in cruel ways that no child could imagine surviving six years of. One day, Gintoki casually helped a girl in his class with a boy who was teasing her, not knowing that this boy was in fact crushing on the girl. From then on, Gintoki would be on the receiving end of relentless forms of harassment: thumbtacks in his shoes, vandalism on his desk, stolen gym clothes, no partners in gym class. To be free from the torment, he chose a middle school in another city, hoping to lead a normal school life. For the first time in years, he made friends, laughed, and felt happy. Who would have thought, when he entered high school, that his dark past would walk through his classroom door, smiling and surrounded by peers?”

Gintoki squeezes his milk carton, not bothering to deny his friend’s overactive imagination. For all that he got wrong, the story felt oddly relatable.

“Eh, really? Kintoki, did that really happen?”

“Oh, he’s not denying it.”

He sighs, long suffering, “You dumbasses really think something so cliché happened? Zura’s infected you guys, it seems.”

“No, but the guy really was surrounded by babes. He’s definitely the popular type.”

“And did one of those babes happen to be Ketsuno Ana?”

“Isn’t she in our class, Takasugi?”

“Oi, now I’m kinda jealous. Why do you fuckers get to be in her class?”

“Guys, we’re goin’ off topic.”

Gintoki steals a handful of fries off someone’s tray, popping them in his mouth before anyone can come after them.

“He’s my childhood friend, you nosey bastards. Haven’t heard from him since I transferred, so yeah, it’s awkward.”

“Wait, really? Zura got it half right?”

“The only thing he got right was the transferring.”

“So? You want to reconnect with him?”

Gintoki grunts a neutral sound, waving his hand to dismiss the topic.

“What are you being so prissy about? Are you shy?”

“Takasugi, I think he’s suddenly realized how inferior he is in comparison. It was okay when they were kids because the concept of social classes hasn’t formed yet. But now that he’s hit puberty, he realizes that his old friend belongs to a totally different world. The world for popular, attractive, straight-haired high schoolers isn’t where Gintoki belongs.”

“You realize you just insulted yourself, right? You know, ‘cause you’re definitely hanging out with me right now,” Gintoki points out.

“Don’t worry, Kintoki. We’ll help ya out. It’s just like seein’ yer ex after a long time, right? Don’t worry, I got a lotta experience.”

“No, no, I don’t think you realize how many of your ‘exes’ hate your guts. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“You’re unusually serious about this.”

His friends nod and watch him curiously.

He scratches his neck wondering how he should explain the dynamics of their friendship, “Everyone had that one friend growing up, you know? The one who, when you’re together, amplifies all your worst traits? The teachers hated us for all the trouble we gave them, and we were known as _the_ duo. Then I kind of transferred without telling him. It was one of those surprise transfers that you didn’t expect.”

“Why didn’t you just call him after?”

“Because I forgot his number.”

“You’re one crappy friend. But we already knew that.”

“He probably forgot about you, anyway.”

“Nah, I say he totally hates you.”

“I think he didn’t give a shit, personally.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Shittysugi.”

Despite all the trash talking, Gintoki does worry that Hijikata might hold a grudge from that time. If he remembers his old best friend correctly, then he’s definitely one to count his grudges. Also, it’s hard to explain in words, but the two of them were closer than just friends. There was no way Hijikata would’ve been okay with him moving out and transferring without a word. If Gintoki really thinks, he could maybe come up with at least three ways he could’ve let Hijikata know he was transferring. It was just a shitty situation at a shitty mental age, and Gintoki would like to think that he is now infinitely more mature than he was back then. Yeah, there’s no way around this conversation. He has to clear the air with Hijikata.

“Hey.”

Gintoki picks his gaze up and finds a pair of steel blue eyes blinking at him. He feels the back of his head itch.

“Hey.”

Hijikata adjusts his grip of his shoulder bag. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” Gintoki replies, pushing off the stone pillar of their school’s front entrance.

Hijikata nods, turning his gaze to the ground. Gintoki watches him for a second before asking, “Wanna go get a parfait?”

Hijikata’s eyes flick back to Gintoki’s, then towards the side like he’s expecting someone to appear. Eventually, he agrees, “Sure.”

Gintoki’s the only one who gets a parfait. Hijikata has coffee and mayonnaise. Without a hitch in his expression, Gintoki watches as Hijikata squeezes a bottle of mayonnaise on his coffee.

“I see your addiction has worsened with time,” he comments.

“What do you mean? This is the normal amount of mayonnaise for coffee.”

“The fact that you add mayo to coffee is already sacrilegious.”

Hijikata picks up his cup of “coffee” and looks Gintoki dead in the eyes as he takes a big gulp. Gintoki feels a sour taste on his tongue just watching. He forces back his gag reflex because he didn’t come here to fight about food preferences.

“Hey, I—”

“I’m not mad,” Hijikata says, putting his cup down.

Gintoki feels his eye twitch. “Are you reading my mind?”

“No, but it was pretty obvious what you wanted to say.”

“You’re not even a little bit mad? Not even back then?” Gintoki wonders, a little underwhelmed.

Hijikata sighs, “Well, maybe I was back then. But I’m not a kid anymore. Some things you just can’t help.”

Gintoki looks at his old friend, those same blue eyes that he remembers from his childhood now shine with a sharp edge that didn’t used to be there. It should’ve been obvious he wouldn’t be the only one who has changed since then. He can’t expect a fifteen-year-old teenage boy to hold the same petty grudges as an eleven-year-old boy.

“How have you been?” he asks.

“Mm, alright.”

Gintoki digs up a couple chunks of cheesecakes from his parfait and bites into them. He grunts a soft sound in response, recalling how terrible of a liar Hijikata was in the past. This part hasn’t changed at all.

“Where do you live now?” he asks after another bite.

“About a ten minutes’ walk from school.”

“How nice. I’m two stops away by train.”

Hijikata takes another big sip of his drink. Gintoki’s spoon hits the bottom of the glass, scaping the last bits of yogurt.

“Should we go?” he asks, dropping his spoon in the glass.

“Yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

Takasugi and Katsura are in class 1-C, Sakamoto is in 1-B, and Gintoki is in 1-A. He’s glad he isn’t in the same class as them because being around those guys for extended periods always end in trouble. And despite what it may seem, Gintoki is determined to live a lowkey high school lifestyle.

It goes unsaid that the four of them would meet for lunch everyday or outside of regular class activities, but the one variable Gintoki hadn’t expected was that he’d reunite with his long-lost best friend as a classmate. Which brings us to the dilemma that Gintoki is currently facing: ditch his friends to invite his old friend to have lunch together, or curve his old friend without making things awkward to go hang with his current friends as per bro code. But wait, if he did the math, Hijikata has seniority in the bro hierarchy.

Gintoki stares intensely at the blackboard, wondering what he should do when the lunch bells ring in approximately five minutes. His eyes have subconsciously drifted to the back of Hijikata’s head as he debated the pros and cons of splitting lunch time into two halves and spending one half with each party. And they stay on the back of his head when the bell eventually rings and Hijikata digs through his bag to pull out his wallet before standing and walking towards the door.

Gintoki’s finger jerks when Hijikata hesitates at the door, turning around to catch Gintoki’s gaze before Gintoki could pretend he wasn’t staring. Hijikata darts a glance out the hallway, at a scruffy second year beckoning him over, before looking back over his shoulder to give Gintoki an awkward wave.

Then he’s out the door. And Gintoki sits for a good three minutes dying a bit on the inside because now it looks like he has no friends and wanted to eat lunch with Hijikata, who felt bad when he realized that Gintoki will possibly eat lunch by himself, but can’t turn back to invite Gintoki to lunch since he had already committed to leaving. Gintoki screams silently. Even though all he wanted was to not make things awkward, things became awkward without him doing anything. 

It takes a burning minute before Gintoki collects himself enough to get up and find his gang of friends. Hopefully, by the time he gets to the cafeteria, Hijikata would have bought his lunch and left, so Gintoki won’t have to face another bout of internal screaming.

And probably because he hoped so, the universe delivered him exactly the opposite to spite him. Hijikata is sitting at the table directly beside the one his friends are sitting at. There’s no way he can make his way to his friends without Hijikata seeing him. He sighs. He can’t exactly ignore Hijikata without making things even more awkward. He decides that 200 yen is worth avoiding a lingering sense of embarrassment.

He takes his katsudon combo and lazily drags his feet towards his friends. As he turns down the aisle, Hijikata and Sakamoto see him walking towards them. Gintoki musters his best resting face before daring to meet Hijikata’s eyes. He tips his chin towards him in greeting before casually dropping a carton of coffee milk on Hijikata’s tray without a word.

He puts his tray down in the empty seat beside Sakamoto, then fixes each of his friends with _the_ look. Of course, they also ignore the look to spite him.

“Ha ha ha, Kintoki, what was that? Ya got the wrong guy. Takasugi’s in front of ya.”

“Tatsuma, _shut up_ ,” Gintoki seethes between his clenched teeth, threatening his other two friends to drop the topic with a glare.

Takasugi smirks, leans over Katsura’s shoulder and stares at Hijikata’s table with blatant interest. “Oh, is that pretty boy there the ex? Zura was right—he’s out of your league.”

Gintoki kicks him under the table.

“Takasugi, don’t be rude. Gintoki’s clearly trying to be discreet and suave even though we know he’s a freeloading slob with no lick of tact,” Katsura whispers loudly, darting frequent glances over at Hijikata’s increasingly pinched face.

Gintoki grinds his teeth at Katsura and grumbles, “You’re the one with no tact, you piece of shit. I’ll kill you.”

Gintoki finally drops the act when he hears the others at Hijikata’s table joining the train wreck conversation. He slaps a hand across his face and groans.

“Eh? Toshi, he’s your ex? I never heard about this! When did you start growing up! And in that direction too…not that it matters. I will accept you no matter what, you know that?”

“Kondo-san, I—”

“Hijikata-san could never! He’s such a prude—”

“Yamazaki, shut up!”

Hijikata doesn’t have time to deny anything before the scruffy second year stands up and hollers at Gintoki.

“Hey! I’m Kondo Isao, pleased to meet you! However, anyone who wants Toshi will have to get my approval first.”

“Fucking hell,” Hijikata mutters.

And that’s it. Gintoki drops his head down on the table and cradles his head hopelessly.

Takasugi is snickering away in front of him and Sakamoto laughs while giving his back a few consoling pats.

Katsura, the ever-dramatic idiot, harrumphs and stands up as well.

“That’s our line. If you want Gintoki, you’ll have to gain the approval of me, his mother!”

Katsura has his own argument over Gintoki’s head with Kondo, and Gintoki has given up stopping this train wreck. He fully intends to spend the rest of lunch time with his head glued to the table, but a rough yank of his arm pulls him off.

Hijikata’s got a mean glare on his face as he grits his teeth and shakes Gintoki with a snarl.

“ _Fix_ this,” he utters with his finger pointing at Katsura and Kondo.

“No way,” Gintoki shakes his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “I don’t wanna get in between that. You do it.”

“You—” Hijikata swallows whatever he had to say with a grunt before pushing Gintoki aside to snatch the pudding cup off his tray.

“Ah! My pudding!”

“If you want it back, explain to them!”

“I already gave you coffee milk, isn’t that enough!”

“It’s because you gave me coffee milk, stupid!”

“Well, then give it back if you don’t want it! Ungrateful asshole! That was 200 yen!”

“No! It’s mine once you give it to me!”

Somewhere behind him he hears Takasugi gleefully providing commentary on their ‘lover’s quarrel,’ which it wasn’t.

“Ugh, fine! Zura! Gorilla! Sit down, we aren’t like that! We were ex- _classmates,_ alright? Nothing more.”

“Hey, what do you mean classmates and nothing more, you piece of shit.”

Gintoki turns around to find the iciest glare directed at him. He blinks, confused. Then his earlier proclamation replays in his head.

“Um, wait, that didn’t come out right,” he quickly amends, arms flailing.

Hijikata advances on Gintoki like a pissed off lion about to rip his throat open. He stabs a finger in Gintoki’s sternum and growls, “Who fucking got detention because he was forced to steal popsicles with you, huh? Who was it who got bullied from grade three to six because he hung out with a loser like you, huuh? Who was it who ate half of my side dishes during lunch like a fucking freeloader, huuuh?”

Gintoki feels sweat dripping down his nape. He suddenly feels like he shouldn’t just take Hijikata’s accusations without defense. He shouts back, “You said you weren’t mad! You’re totally holding a grudge, dude!”

At this point, not just Katsura and Kondo, the whole cafeteria has their attention on Hijikata and Gintoki.

“I’m not mad about that! I’m mad that you dare call me a ‘classmate’ when I fucking raised you on my grain! Show some fucking respect!” 

Gintoki feels the corners of his lips twitch as an old instinct aroused inside him. He swats Hijikata’s finger away from his chest and stabs at Hijikata’s forehead in return.

“Oh, and who was it who taught your prude ass how to swear? Who was it who hosted many weekend sleepovers? Who was it who always rescued you out of the clutches of fugly girls? You dare say you raised me? I fucking carried you through grade school!”

Hijikata slaps Gintoki’s hand off, pinning him with a blank stare.

“Some loser I used to play with ‘cause he had no other friends. Why, you know him?” he tilts his head and frames it in a question that he knew would taunt Gintoki just the right way.

Gintoki bites.

“How dare you! I hard carried you through all those years and you _dare_ disrespect me, your father! Say that shit again!” he yells with a passion he didn’t know he had.

“Alright,” Hijikata shrugs, then, “Ex-classmate,” he repeats for Gintoki.

Gintoki knows that he’s the one in the wrong, that he has no right being mad, that he probably deserves the full body itch crawling across his skin.

“Ew, ew, ew,” he utters as he shudders and shakes his limbs out.

“See,” Hijikata huffs in satisfaction like his point was proven.

“Alright, my bad. Ex- _bestie_ , is that good enough for you?” Gintoki ends it there to appease Hijikata, who still has Gintoki’s pudding hostage.

Hijikata scoffs, but tosses his pudding back at him, so Gintoki takes that for a win. Even though he probably lost in everyone else’s books.

They sit back down at their respective tables, picking up their spoon and chopsticks before looking at their rapt audience and asking in unison, “You get it now?”

Takasugi laughs like he’s found the shiniest new toy to mess with and Katsura sagely sits back down and lectures Gintoki on respecting his friends as if he weren’t just arguing with a gorilla. The gorilla pats Hijikata on the back and says that he’s proud of Hijikata. Sakamoto disappeared somewhere during their rant and the plain looking guy who sits with Hijikata looks relieved the tirade is over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm doing this I guess... hi.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s nearing the end of the first week of school, and Gintoki has just found out that all first years must be part of a club. Unfortunately for him, there isn’t a “Go-Home Club” or any other obscure club that would allow him to kick it home after hours. He for sure did not want to be a part of any sports club. Jocks are unrelentless about practice and discipline. Likewise, arts clubs have their own brand of passionate snobs and showcases and performances and etcetera.

So, he gets an idea.

During lunch, he stops by Hijikata’s desk before either of them heads off for the cafeteria. The application form on Hijikata’s table is filled out with the words “Disciplinary Club” in neat handwriting.

Gintoki groans, “Seriously? When did you become such a goody two-shoes?”

Hijikata scoffs back, “Since you went and took your troublesome ass elsewhere.”

“Alright, hold it,” Gintoki says, bring his hand to slice the air between them.

Though personally, he feels that after the whole cafeteria debacle, the tension between them has dissipated. It still feels a little too soon for those type of jokes to not make Gintoki self-conscious.

“Please be super clear when you answer me: Are you feeling some type of way about me?” he asks to set the record straight.

Hijikata scrunches his nose and side-eyes Gintoki like he just admitted something embarrassing. And, belatedly, Gintoki realizes he may have worded that sentence too vaguely.

“I mean like negatively. Are you feeling negatively about me?” he clarifies with another two karate chops in the air.

“Get over yourself,” Hijikata huffs, then simply says, “it’s fine.”

“When a girl says something’s fine, it’s never really fine.”

“What are you trying to say, asshole?”

“You’re like a—”

“You won’t finish that sentence, if you know what’s good for you.”

So, he shuts up because angering Hijikata any more will be counterproductive. He languidly blinks his deadpan eyes at Hijikata, hoping he looks innocent and obedient. He probably doesn’t because Hijikata gives him a grimace.

“Stop overthinking it,” he tells Gintoki, explaining that, “I’m only joining it because Kondo-san is in it. I don’t really care about the actual discipline of this school.”

Gintoki grunts in response, then he drops his own form onto the table.

Hijikata leans over to read, “Odd Jobs Club?”

“If you don’t care about disciplinary, you might as well join me. Heck, I’m sure you could join both. My club won’t be all that much work.”

“No, but the name itself implies it’ll be work. Also, did you say it’s _your_ club?”

“Listen, it’s actually a great idea. Each club gets a budget every year, and depending on how I market the club, we can either get no work or a lot of work. When we get no work, that’s free money to buy snacks. When we get work, that’s free money to buy snacks _and_ more money from customers to buy snacks. Well, isn’t it brilliant? How about it, partner?” Gintoki tries to sound as convincing and not desperate as possible.

Hijikata pushes Gintoki’s form to the very edge of his desk with a straight face.

“Don’t ‘partner’ me. I’m not doing it. Sounds like a pain.”

“Did you not hear a word I said? It’ll be no pain, all gain!” Gintoki shouts.

“The fact that you’re gonna be running the club is already bound to be trouble. No.”

“Aw, Tosshi, don’t be like that. I’m asking you ‘cause you’re a cool dude, and my old partner in crime. C’mon, think about it,” Gintoki shamelessly throws in the praise and paints his words to trigger whatever nostalgia Hijikata could still feel for their old friendship.

And Gintoki swears he sees Hijikata’s resolve waver. Nobody says anything for about thirty seconds before Hijikata sighs, “You realize you need five people to create a new club, right? Where are you going to find three other idiots to believe your bullshit?”

Gintoki grins. “You, me, Zura, Takasugi, and Tatsuma.”

“Ah, fuck,” Hijikata sighs again, long and self-loathing.

“So, you will?” Gintoki asks to confirm, even though he knew he had Hijikata by the first sigh.

“Fuck,” Hijikata swears again, sharp and with feeling.

“Great! I already have another form with your name on it. Let’s go hand it in when school’s out!”

Gintoki repeats his spiel to his trio of idiots, and surprisingly, has a harder time convincing them to join his club. For whatever reason, those guys also have other clubs they want to join.

“Sorry, Gintoki. I have decided to join the Debate Club.”

“I’m joining the Fight Club. Oh, I meant the Strength Club.”

“I’m joinin’ Sales n’ Marketing, man. Sorry.”

Gintoki stares wide-eyed at his friends. “Why did you guys pick such nerdy clubs. Except you, Takasugi, you’re fucked.”

Katsura scoffs, flipping his hair over his shoulder. “I am here on a full ride scholarship. What do you expect?”

Sakamoto just laughs like Gintoki is the weird one. He says, “I’ma born salesman, Kintoki. It’s in the family.”

“Oh, right,” Gintoki mumbles, forgetting that his friends are actually nerdy behind all the stupid crap they do. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t join my club too. Who says you can’t join two? I won’t even need you to do anything. You’ll just be a member on paper.”

“Sure,” Takasugi unexpectedly agrees first.

“R-Really?”

“For ten percent of your budget,” he adds with a smirk.

“You fucker! You’re trying to embezzle my club funds!” Gintoki shouts at the audacity.

“You literally just told us your main objective is to embezzle the club funds. Don’t act righteous with me,” Takasugi sneers.

“Oh, then I’ll join ya Kintoki. Gimme ten percent too!”

“Gintoki, I’ll join your cause as a good friend. I only ask for nine percent.”

“You leeches,” Gintoki grumbles, but agrees to their terms anyway. “Fine, whatever. Have your forms filled out and meet me at the Student Council office after school.”

Of course, he has no intention of paying any of them.

Later that day, Gintoki drags Hijikata with him to the Student Council office, where the others were already waiting for them.

When he sees Gintoki and Hijikata, Takasugi makes the most condescending face and says, “Well, if it isn’t the pretty boy.”

Hijikata frowns and regards Takasugi like he’s trying to come to terms with a semi-permanent annoyance being part of his new daily life.

“Don’t call me that. It’s Hijikata,” he states.

“Yeah, sure,” Takasugi acquiesces, shrugging as he pushes through the office doors.

“Just call him a midget in return. He doesn’t need a name,” Gintoki tells Hijikata as he follows Takasugi through the doors.

“Heh, they’re always like that, don’t mind ‘em,” Sakamoto pats Hijikata on the shoulder and leads them into the office with Katsura coming in after them.

They all hand their forms in to the student accepting application forms. Gintoki has extra forms for the new club he’s creating, and the student in charge looks a little hesitant to approve the club. Gintoki runs his mouth and talks the girl around the world, promising that he has a teacher acting as the club advisor and that the club is absolutely legitimate. He eventually gets his papers signed and his club approved.

Once they exit the office, Takasugi pulls out his phone and taps a memo into his notepad. “That’s ten percent, don’t forget. You already owe me one Yakult.”

“Nice doin’ business with ya, Kintoki.”

“Oh, I changed my mind, Gintoki. I’ll actually take ten percent as well. It doesn’t make sense if I’m the only one getting paid less,” Katsura decides to amend last minute.

“Wait, they’re getting paid?” Hijikata turns to Gintoki and asks.

“Okay, settle down,” Gintoki shushes them with flapping hands. “Everyone’s getting ten free passes to Odd Jobs once I open, I get it.”

“If I don’t see the money by next weekend, I’ll dye your trademark perm hot pink,” Takasugi calmly threatens, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Sakamoto and Katsura both nod and agree with the idea.

“Let’s also dye his pubes,” Sakamoto adds on.

“Fuck! Leave my hair alone! I’ll pay you guys in snacks, okay? I have to write off the expenses somehow,” Gintoki tries to negotiate with his friends.

“Wait, so they’re getting paid with embezzled club funding?” Hijikata asks with a deeper frown.

“No, no. It’s not embezzling if we use the money to buy snacks for proper customers who have valid free trial coupons. Don’t worry, Tosshi,” Gintoki assures Hijikata with a greasy tone that promises nothing but trickery.

Hijikata looks like he’s still mincing a retort in his mind, so Gintoki quickly sidles up next to him and says, “Of course, our fine establishment will have the finest condiment, mayonnaise, available too.”

Hijikata visibly perks up at the mention of mayonnaise. Eventually he clears his throat and warns, “If this goes to shit, I’m not responsible.”

Gintoki smirks, leaning in to whisper, “Not a problem. I put Takasugi down as the Treasurer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gintoki's that sneaky friend I wish I never had in school. He's the kid who would "borrow" your pencil and never give it back. But you also can't say no to him because he's also THAT kid.


	4. Chapter 4

Gintoki quickly falls into rhythm, mixing old habits with new. He spends most of his free time within school hours messing around as a quarter of, what Hijikata has justly dubbed, the “Idiot Four.” But because all their extracurricular activities differ, they don’t spend too many afternoons together during the weekday. And since everyone else belongs to a legitimate club or committee (except Takasugi—Gintoki thinks he might’ve joined a gang or cult), Gintoki is the only one left with the free time to roam the campus until his club hours were over. Technically, he’s supposed to be in his clubroom, doing proper club activities, but there’s not much going on in the Odd Jobs Club with only one real member.

Today, he decides to head over to the Disciplinary Club to see if he can advise on some of the dumber rules in the dress code. It makes no sense that Gintoki can’t have one sleeve constantly rolled up to his elbow. Who gets a say on something as anal as that?

So, unapologetically, he shuffles into their clubroom during the middle of a meeting and sits his ass on the windowsill beside Hijikata’s seat. Some, or all, eyes trail after him like his existence is unnatural and deserves questioning. Gintoki’s policy is to ignore anyone who questions his right of existing.

Until a hand curls around his arm and he’s yanked off his perch.

“ _What_ are you doing?”

Gintoki frowns down at Hijikata’s exasperated face.

“What, you mean I can’t audit one of the Disciplinary Club’s meetings? The Student Council lets people do that. What are you guys hiding?” he self-righteously defends with his nose turned high.

“Those are annual meetings open to the student body! That’s totally different!” Hijikata retorts like the goody two-shoes he is.

“So, there _is_ something you guys are hiding then!” he shouts back.

Right as Hijikata is about bodily remove Gintoki, the gorilla second-year laughs and placates the room.

“Toshi, let him. We don’t have anything to hide, anyway.”

Hijikata hesitates before he releases Gintoki’s arm and turns to seriously tell his senior, “You don’t have to listen to this guy, Kondo-san. He just has nothing better to do.”

“Hey! I’ll let you know I have a real reason for coming, Hijikata- _kun_ ,” Gintoki drawls the name high and airy, the way that he knows Hijikata hates.

Predictably, Hijikata’s lips curl in disgust, and he clicks his tongue at Gintoki.

“Don’t call me that. Also, roll your sleeve down and put your blazer on. You’re violating uniform code.”

“That! That’s exactly why I’m here. Isn’t it ridiculous that the school expects me to always have my jacket on and nitpick where my sleeves are rolled up to? It’s too hot! I have a high body temperature! How’s a guy like me supposed to live? Should I just skip school then, since I can’t even adjust my sleeves to be comfortable? In this day and age, schools should be more accommodating!” Gintoki complains to the room at large, ignoring Hijikata who only stares unemphatically back at him to pointedly address the figure standing in the front of the room.

Just as Gintoki hoped, the gorilla second-year scratches at his chin in thought, contemplating the complaint.

“Well, I guess he has a point. Maybe his right arm in particular needs extra ventilation.”

“Kondo-san, don’t be fooled. What could one sleeve possibly change?”

“No, Vice Prez, he’s right. I follow the news—kids these days post their school's strict uniform policy on social media, claiming discrimination, and it would blow up on the school’s face. What if he causes a dissidence if we ignore his complaint?” one of the plain ones passionately narrates.

“Yeah, yeah, Vice Prez. I’m so gonna publicize the school’s discrimination against me. Also, when did you become the vice president, Tosshi? They let a first-year like you climb the ladders so soon?”

“I personally recommended Toshi myself! We don’t have any third years here and the other second years fill other roles. But doesn’t he just scream vice president material? By the way, I’m the president.”

Gintoki nods in agreement, “Yeah, Tosshi is definitely vice president material. I mean, this is his second time doing it, so, obviously.”

Hijikata looks up with a confused frown. He asks, “What do you mean? This is my first time.”

Gintoki smugly places his hand on Hijikata’s shoulder and chuckles like Hijikata just said a boorish joke. In a tone similar to that of a condescending adult speaking to a child, he corrects, “No, buddy, you’re Vice President of the Odd Jobs Club. I’m your first time.”

Everyone stares at Gintoki with varying degrees of disbelief and awe, just like how people watch a lion devour an antler in sick fascination. Hijikata, though, looks like he’s ready to either jump out the window or strangle Gintoki.

“Shut up! I’ve had enough of you!” he shouts with a red face, choosing to strangle Gintoki’s uniform collar in compromise.

“But it’s true! You’re my vice president! Ah—stop, it hurts! Help!”

Someone comes to pry Hijikata’s hands off his collar before he could suffocate. Running away from his friend, Gintoki stands beside the second-year president with his best guileless face.

“What do you say Gorilla-senpai? Can you explain to the faculty that I’m only trying my best to come to school and focus on my education? It can’t be helped that I run hotter than the rest, right? I’m already doing my best to fit in. A rolled up sleeve shouldn't impede my ability to learn.”

Gintoki’s passionate speech and dramatic gestures must have moved the second-year student because he looks at Gintoki with sparkling eyes and nods.

“I’ll do my best. For a student to be so passionate about his studies, we cannot let him miss school because he fears fitting in!”

“Right, right! You understand me!”

Somewhere near the back, Hijikata sighs, mumbling, “He doesn’t fear fitting in. He adamantly won’t fit in.”

But he doesn’t do anything more to stop Gintoki. He picks his bag off the back of his chair and points to the clock.

“We gotta lock up soon.”

A few people gasp at the time, surprised it’s already got so late. The members scramble for their belongings and file out the door. Gintoki follows Hijikata out and hums like he didn’t just hijack a club’s whole meeting.

“I’ll lock up and return the keys. See you guys tomorrow!” Gorilla says.

“Hey, don’t get in the habit of casually calling my president a gorilla,” Hijikata reprimands once everyone is out of earshot.

“But you totally think he’s a gorilla too,” Gintoki smirks all-knowingly.

Hijikata’s cheeks pinken a little, but he still denies, “I don’t.”

Gintoki lets him pretend he doesn’t agree, keeping in stride with Hijikata as they head towards the school gates. Gintoki figured out earlier on that Hijikata’s apartment building is on the way to the station, so they sometimes walk home together when their schedules align.

They walked quietly alongside other students and strangers making their way to the station. Hijikata is scrolling through his smartphone while Gintoki remembers he left his old flip phone on his drawer this morning. When Hijikata’s building is within sight, something catches Gintoki’s eye.

Another boy, maybe a middle school student, is walking towards them, and for no apparent reason, is staring at Gintoki with unblinking laser focus. He ignores the staring and looks straight ahead with his deadpan gaze, but the boy stops in the middle of the street and watches them approach. Gintoki feels weirded out and ultimately frowns at the boy.

This only makes the boy smile. Though it may look innocent and sweet, Gintoki’s gut is telling him to be wary.

The boy doesn’t look away from Gintoki as he speaks, in a flat, boyish voice, “Hijikata-san, I didn’t know you have friends.”

Gintoki catches Hijikata jolt at the voice, recognition causing his face to contort into the most annoyed expression Gintoki has seen on the other’s face. Gintoki had thought he was the only one who could annoy Hijikata to this extent.

“Sougo,” he spits the name out with all his annoyance laced into his enunciation. “Don’t you have cram school?”

The boy waves his hand flippantly. “Skipping, duh. I’m more concerned with how you managed to make friends with your abysmal social skills. Did you bribe him? Offer to be his gopher for three years? Threaten him? Blackmail him? Ah, but those are more my expertise.”

When Hijikata only sighs in response, Gintoki takes it upon himself to respond.

“You’re not a regular kid, huh, Souichiro-kun.”

The boy blinks his laser beam eyes at him and says, “It’s Sougo. So, who are you, big guy? Why did you decide to hang out with this loser?”

Gintoki shrugs, not really interested in answering the boy seriously.

“You can call me Gin-san, founder and president of the Odd Jobs Club. Tosshi here has been my vice president since way back. Maybe all the way back since grade three.”

The boy blinks his round doe eyes and tilts his head curiously, looking the picture-perfect cute child. If not for his monotone voice, saying, “Eh, but Hijikata was homeschooled until middle school. That can’t be true.”

And although the boy looks like he’s joking, his voice is dead serious. Gintoki scrunches his face at the boy and says with a lot of confusion, “No, he wasn’t. He transferred into my school in grade three.”

The boy flattens his lips and turns to Hijikata with an even duller expression. Disapprovingly, he accuses, “Hijikata-san, have you been lying to us? What other dirty secrets are you keeping from me?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t already have a whole notebook of trivia on me and an SD card full of blackmail material,” Hijikata sneers with all the disdain but no real intention to do anything about it.

“Ah, you found out? Heh,” he chuckles and blinks his big round eyes at them innocently.

Gintoki knows that look, he does it often. Though he’s bitter to admit that the boy pulls it off better than he does.

“And you were the one who assumed I was always homeschooled,” Hijikata casually says, dropping two bombs at once.

Just as Gintoki splutters, the boy wonders aloud:

“Wait, what? You were homeschooled?”

“Huh, so even you were properly socialized once.”

Hijikata is prompt to ignore them both and turn into his apartment complex. Gintoki blankly stares after his back. Hijikata has one foot on the first step to the old, faded staircase when he angles his head at Gintoki, grunting, “You coming?”

Gintoki feels a lurch in his stomach, but he keeps his face composed as he shrugs and traces Hijikata’s footsteps. All the while, Gintoki feels a burning hot stare behind his head. They climb the stairs up to the third floor to reach the hallway leading into four different apartments. Hijikata stands in front of apartment 32 and unlocks the door. Gintoki follows the other into the apartment, kicking his shoes off at the entrance and dropping his bag somewhere beside the umbrella rack.

As Hijikata walks into what appears to be a bedroom, he tells Gintoki, “Have a seat on the couch.”

Gintoki walks over to the only couch in the apartment, but before he could put a hand on the armrest, someone jumps onto the couch and chirps a cheerful, “Sure thing.”

Gintoki blinks at the body lying horizontally on the couch, taking up the whole length. Familiar doe eyes blink owlishly back up at him.

Without delay, Hijikata sticks his head out of his room to glare at the intruder.

“What are you doing here, Sougo?”

The boy grins mischievously between them, shamelessly announcing, “Normally, I wouldn’t come near this place, but since you rarely have guests, I thought I’d stick around to see if anything interesting happens.”

It doesn’t take long for Gintoki to understand the dynamic between the boy and his friend, though he still doesn’t know what their relationship is. Since Hijikata is busying himself in the kitchen, Gintoki decides to ask the boy himself.

“So, who are you?”

“I’m Okita Sougo.”

“No, but like, who are you?”

“Like I said, Okita Sougo.”

Just as Gintoki give ups and opts to staring out the window, Hijikata comes and drops a bottle of tea on the coffee table in front of him.

“He’s the gremlin who lives in apartment 34. Goes to my old middle school,” Hijikata explains.

“Oh, a kouhai?” Gintoki asks.

Hijikata only grumbles and kicks the boy off the couch. Gintoki takes the chance to sprawl on one side of the couch. Hijikata takes the other half and the gremlin boy sits on the floor across from them.

“No, President-san, he’s the kouhai.”

Gintoki looks unconvinced, so the boy turns to Hijikata and says, “Tell him how you used to call me senpai, Hijikata-san.”

Hijikata doesn’t say anything, but that’s answer enough because the boy’s grin turns wolfish as seconds drag on.

“Hey, what kinda kinks have you dabbled in since I last knew you as an innocent little babe?” Gintoki asks with more than a little apprehension.

Surprisingly, the boy speaks first, “Don’t be gross. I’d never engage in any sort of kinky play with Hijikata-san, even if he were the last M alive.”

Gintoki’s apprehension doesn’t subside. This really isn’t a regular kid.

Hijikata throws a cushion at the boy, growling, “Stop speaking, both of you.

He’s just a kid I used to train with at a kendo dojo. He’s technically my senpai there, but since I beat him that one time in a match, I don’t need to call him that ever again.”

The boy plucks the cushion off his face with an unimpressed look. “That was still just one time, Hijikata-san. You haven’t won ever since.”

Hijikata doesn’t even get mad. He just has a relieved grin on his face. “Well, thank god that one time counted.”

The kid must be good then. Gintoki is just surprised at the fact that Hijikata had taken up kendo.

“Do you still train?” he asks.

“If I have time,” Hijikata replies.

The boy scoffs at his response and reaches over to grab Gintoki’s bottle of green tea, twisting the cap off and drinking out of it without remorse. Gintoki watches with a slight tick of annoyance. The boy was brattier than he remembers ever being.

“Hey, that’s mine,” he snaps at the boy.

The boy recaps the bottle and begins flipping it in the air.

“But Hijikata-san only put out one drink. It has to be for me, right?” he asks as if it were only natural.

“You’d be the last one I’d serve drinks to. If you want a drink, you can go home.”

“So mean. Whatever,” the boy shrugs, placing the drink back in front of Gintoki. “You can have it back.”

Gintoki laughs, feeling his fingers curl into a fist. Something in his jaw ticks and he asks, “Can I hit him? I can hit him, right?”

Hijikata happily gives his go-ahead. “Yeah, go. Hit him hard enough he gets a new personality.”

The boy remains calmly seated, yawns even, as Gintoki raises a shaking fist. And as if on cue, the door clicks open and someone walks in.

A soft, sweet voice greets, “Toshirou-san.”

Gintoki turns to see a pretty girl standing at the entrance, tan brown hair and genuine smile. Soft, polite, and well-mannered, Gintoki thinks. A lot of high school boys’ ideal type.

Hijikata rises from his seat to greet the girl, “Mitsuba.”

The boy clicks his tongue and suddenly drops the calm façade to openly display his irritation. The girl, whose eyes were glued to Hijikata like a moth to flame, turns her gaze to the boy.

“Sou-chan, you weren’t at cram school, so I came looking for you. You weren’t causing Toshirou-san trouble, were you?”

The boy quickly dons his perfect innocent mask before answering, “Of course, not, Nee-san. I was just entertaining Hijikata-san’s friend. He loves my jokes.”

“Oh, do I now?” Gintoki chuckles darkly, eyes curiously darting between the pair of siblings.

“You do!” the boy insists, all smiles and boyish charm. “Nee-san, I was just about to go home and let the two of them finish their homework. What are you making for dinner?”

The girl, who Gintoki now notices is wearing their school’s uniform, turns her attention back to Hijikata.

“Oh, if you two need help on this week’s homework, let me know. I’ve already completed all of mine.”

“Y-Yeah, sure. We’ll let you know if we need help,” Hijikata accepts, going along with the lie.

“Well,” the girl hesitates, eyes lingering even as her brother is urging her out the door. “I’ll be making curry for dinner. I’ll make some extra for you guys.”

Hijikata is about to respond when the boy quickly chimes in with another lie.

“Nee-san, Gin-san said he’s taking Hijikata-san out for ramen later.”

“Oh.” The girl looks at Gintoki, surprised. “Goodness, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Okita Mitsuba. Thank you for taking care of my brother.”

Gintoki nods at her, returning the greeting. “Sakata Gintoki. Your brother is quite the dimensional character.”

She giggles, “Yes, he’s a bright kid. But he’s a good kid.”

“Sure, sure,” Gintoki offhandedly replies, leaning back into the couch.

Once the boy finally gets his sister out of the doorframe, he pins Hijikata with a mutinous glare and growls, “Have a good evening.”

The door slams shut and there’s a moment of silence as Hijikata walks back to the kitchen and takes out another bottle of tea from the fridge.

“So, what was that?” he asks as he receives the new bottle of tea offered.

“My living nightmare,” Hijikata calmly answers.

“I mean the girl. Are you two, like, dating? Is that why the brat hates you?”

“We’re not. That guy has always hated me. Dunno why.”

Gintoki thinks it’s pretty obvious why the boy hates him. There’s also a story here, but Gintoki decides he won’t pry into it just yet.

“Do you live alone here,” he changes the topic.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. When did you move out here?”

“Second year of middle school.”

There’s also another story here, and Gintoki knows his friend is getting uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is heading, so he drops it. He can’t ask about this either.

He goes to grab his bag and pull out some workbooks.

“I guess we’re having ramen later.”

“Guess so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking out of my writer's block with this update. Oof. 
> 
> And so the cast expands.


End file.
